


castles in the sky

by anupturnedboat



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Best Friends, Crushes, F/M, Family Feels, First Love, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Growing Up, Holidays, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-25 06:14:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21811396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anupturnedboat/pseuds/anupturnedboat
Summary: There is a whirlwind of activity, and too many people he doesn’t know, and  all he really wants to do is - what? - tell Arya Stark he’s sort of in love with her?He shoves a canapé in his mouth and the thought out of his mind.
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters
Comments: 42
Kudos: 205





	castles in the sky

12

Arya wiggles her toes in the hot sand as Robb wheels Bran’s wheelchair under an umbrella. Everything is different this year, and it could be miserable and sad, but somehow it isn’t.Not when they are all together like this.

It is bright and salty, school is out and summer is just starting.It feels like some type of exquisite happiness thrumming under her skin.

She’s content to breathe it all in for a moment as her brothers throw down their towels and start making bets on who can make it to the water first. Gendry, _who is not her brother,_ casts a queer look her way, and for a moment a strange squiggle flutters low in her belly. Sometimes, when she looks at him, her breath gets uncomfortably caught under her ribcage.

She feels heat rush to the tips of her ears.

_Stupid_.

His eyes slide past her, behind her, to Sansa in her blue bikini.Sansa, who looks like a mermaid goddess.

_Oh_

Arya looks down at her own flat chest and plain one-peice. 

When she looks back up he’s chasing after Robb and Jon.

Sharks and Minnows, is _her_ game.She’s fast, and slippery, and they never catch her.She looks back at Sansa in her blue bikini, lounging under an umbrella next to mother, and suddenly doesn’t feel much like being a shark. Or a minnow.

Who cares about his stupid blue eyes anyway? He’s just stupid Gendry, who she has known practically her whole life. Jon splashes her just then, driving all thoughts of stupid Gendry away, “come on,” he smiles conspiratorially, “wanna team up against Theon?”

Theon catches onto them pretty quickly. He squawks at her in frustration as she effortlessly avoids his grasp. She sticks her tongue out over her shoulder and it is nearly perfect until she collides with Gendry, a wave knocking into them both. The water comes up under her armpits and for a moment her feet hover over the sand and the only things holding her in place are his strong arms.

He reaches out to steady her before she loses her balance, his stupid lopsided grin making everything move in slow motion.With his shaggy hair wet and slicked back off his forehead like thishis gaze is startling. Blotting out the sun and sea and everything in between.

She only vaguely feels Theon’s arms come up under her armpits before she is in the air and then hitting the water hard.She is sucking in saltwater, arms flailing to get above the waves when another rolls in,knocking her upside down.

There’s water coming out of her nose and sand clinging to her cheek. Gendry is hovering over her with that stupid pinched look he gets, his hair dripping onto her forehead.

“I’m fine,” she snaps swatting him away feeling foolish and half drowned.

“Asshole,” she hears Jon snarl at Theon. 

“Why don’t you all dry off,” her father says breaking things up. “Lunch will be ready soon.”

He pulls her to her feet. “You ok little wolf?”

She nods, even though she isn’t really. She’s snotty and covered in sand, and inexplicably embarrassed. 

After lunch she helps Rickon lug buckets of wet sand to where Bran is resting on his elbows. Building sand castles is baby stuff, but it’s better than looking at stupid Gendry.

Except stupid Gendry is jogging towards her.“Don’t you have something better to do?” she snaps as he takes one of the buckets and starts scooping in wet sand.

“This looks like more fun,” he shrugs.

And the thing is, it is - fun.He’s good at shaping the sand to Bran’s specifications, while she and Rickon fetch more buckets of wet sand and dig the moat. There is a part of her that knows that he probably just wants to sneak more glances at Sansa in her blue bikini, buthe keeps working on the turret and barking orders at her, so maybe not.

16

He is pathetic knocking on her window like this. He could easily hit up Robb or Jon, but this is where he is drawn.Despite the fact that Arya is just a kid, and he is . . . pathetic. He almost changes his mind, but then she pushes the window up and open.

“Are you coming in or are you going to stand out there blinking at me all night? “

Music drifts out of the darkened room, moody and cooler than anything he listens to. 

She backs up, and he crawls in after her. He’s struck, like always, at how distinctively _Arya_ her room is; her fencing gear messily leaning against a wall, clothes and shoes and books in piles around the room. A poster of a wolf, with _Wild Hearts Can’t BeBroken_ in cursive script above its head on the wall above her bed. His own room, is plain and utilitarian. Cersei does not like them pinning anything to the walls, and the housekeeper comes twice a week.

She digs around in her closet and then throws a couple of pillows at his stomach. 

He settles them on her floor in his usual spot next to her bed without a word. She doesn’t ask him what or who, just drops the duvet on top of him, and then flicks off the lamp on her nightstand. He supposes that’s why he comes here. He doesn’t have to explain how shitty things are at home. How he doesn’t fit in with his step family, how alone and adrift he is.

Here, he can just breathe, and be.Sometimes, he thinks, of all the Stark’s, Arya is the one who knows him the best, the one he’d call his best friend. 

A moment later she hangs over the side of the bed making sure he is settling in. She’s cut her hair into a short style that is sharp and angled at her jaw. It makes her look older than she is.“Goodnight,” she says with a piercing look he can’t quite place.The sudden unbidden thought that she’s going to be stunning when she gets older, crosses his mind, and maybe it shows on his face too. “Weirdo,” she whispers, before crawling back into bed.

Sleep doesn’t come.He looks at the same crack in her ceiling that he always does. He rolls and shifts and brushes against something half under her bed. The book is open to the middle and face down, the spine well-worn. He brings it up close in the darkened room, _Little Women_. Something about that is sweet, something that no one has ever called Arya Stark, although he knows better. 

14

She is fourteen the year her father dies.It is the worst year of her life.Gendry stands next to her at the funeral, and slips his fingers in between hers. She doesn’t cry, she doesn’t do anything.She just stands there, helpless and numb.He is solemn, but steady and strong. She leans into him when her legs start to feel shaky. If he notices he doesn’t say a word.

Robb has a new girlfriend and goes back to The Twins before school has even started, and then Jon leaves for college four weeks later.Sansa is always at Jeyne Poole’s, and her mother spends all of her time fretting over Bran and Rickon. She’s never been so alone.She even misses stupid Theon Greyjoy. 

If it wasn’t for Gendry, she might as well be invisible. Three days a week, after practice, she takes the bus to the automotive shop where he works now. 

If her mother even notices, she doesn’t say a thing about it.

She watches him slide out from under a car, grease on his hands and forearms, and that pinched look he gets when he’s concentrating. “What?”

“Nothing. Weirdo,” she scoffs, feeling her cheeks flush. She’s been over her stupid crush for ages now, but she’s not blind. 

He’s dating someone named Bella, - he only let it slip that one time and then had instantly clammed up and told her to stop asking so many questions. But then she’d seen them a couple of weeks ago, his hand on her lower back while he opened the passenger side door of his truck.

She’d hurried away before he could see her, and caught a bus home, sneaking back inthrough her bedroom window.

There was no point in wondering what it would be like to have him look at her like _that_ , she reminded herself, she was only Ayra Horseface after all.

“Earth to Arya,” he says snapping his fingers in front of her face. “Where’d you go?”

She swats his hand away,“I was just thinking.”

“Bout what?”

“None of your business,” she says hopping off the bench and wiping her hands on her pants.

He scowls at her for a moment, “I should get you home before your mother sends out a search party.”

She scoffs at that, “Like she cares.”

Gendry doesn’t push, he never does, instead he starts the car and pulls away, and for some reason she feels a rush of affection for him, not that she’d ever say anything like that out loud.

She knows it’s selfish to be secretly glad that he’d argued with his father and hadn’t wanted to take the money for school. Selfish that it meant he was staying here in the North with her.

He’s her best friend, even if he doesn’t know it. 

19

He doesn’t go home for Christmas that year, pretends it doesn’t sting that he isn’t invited on the family ski trip.

He’d almost ripped up the check Robert sent, but his truck needs new brakes, so he deposits it instead.

It’s fine with him. Really. Spending time cooped up in a cabin in the middle of nowhere with Cersei and Joffrey sounds like some kind of cruel method of medieval torture.

Besides, he’s got his own place now. That he pays for himself. It may not be much but it is his. And if the insistent knocking at the door would stop, he would be happy to crash on his very own lumpy couch and marathon How It’s Made right through to the new year.

Instead he finds himself at the Stark’s.It’s cozyand festive, despite the gaping Ned Stark shaped hole.He’s embarrassed by the wealth of gifts heaped on his lap, he hadn’t brought anything in return. And if that weren’t enough, Mrs. Stark packs enough leftovers to last him a week.

Arya squishes in next to him on the couch, switching the television over to a basketball game. She’s still all pointy elbows and restless energy, but she’s also soft against him, her head resting on his shoulder. Nymeria hops up and sprawls across both their laps, even though she’s not allowed on the couch. His heart feels full, and he’s suddenly very glad he’s not home alone on his lumpy old couch.

16

Her heart speeds up, matching the drumbeat, a furious thump. It’s dark and so loud she can’t hear herself think, it feels like she might fly right out of her skin, it’s a delicious relief.

A relief from the darkness she feels, from the persistent ache of her sadness.The music thrums through the floorboards and the walls. Through her skin, her bones - it washes everything away - at least for tonight.

Gendry is solid behind her, his hands in his pockets, mouthing the words to all the songs.

When Tom Sevenstrings hops off the stage and into the crowd to serenade a pretty girl, shenudges Gendry with her shoulder and they grin at each other like loons.

After, he tugs her through the crowd and out the door like they are going to get caught, and she rolls her eyes. No one had even looked at her twice, no one was going to question if she is underage.

He is still gripping her hand once they get outside, their fingers interlaced, like holding hands is something they do.

It’s not.

They realize it at the same time and blink at each other under the neon lights. His gaze is serious, and so blue that her breath gets caught in her ribcage in that uncomfortable way. Looking at his lips is a completely involuntary action.

For one wild second, she imagines reaching up and pulling him towards her, kissing him here under the marquee.

He hurriedly drops her hand and grumbles something about it being late.

A couple of days later, Jon comes home for summer break, and they drive to the beach, and stop at the place that sells cockles and clams. Jon buys her a beer, and they linger until the sky turns a dusky coral color. It starts to hurt a little less to talk about father.

Bran and his new friend Jojen Reed spend hours playing video games, and she finds herself strikingup an easy friendship with Jojen’s sister Meera. They spend most of rest of the summer at the old drive-in that only plays 80s movies.

“Who’s the dreamboat?” Meera asks, as Arya slips into the passenger seat.

Gendry is next to his truck scowling at something Jon is saying, before they both break into laughter. He’s wearing an old T-shirt that shows off his biceps.

“Just Gendry,” she shrugs. “I’ve know him since we were kids.”

“And?”

“And nothing,” she lies. “He’s just Gendry.”

Meera snorts at her skeptically. “Well, _just Gendry_ , was checking out your ass in those shorts.”

“No he wasn’t!” 

_Was he?_

A furious thrill rolls through her at the thought _._

_“_ You should go for it. He’s hot.”

22

The fact that Arya Stark is beautiful is something he knows in secret.Something he’d never say out loud, or act on.Her brothers would eviscerate his corpse after Arya was through with him.So yeah, he mostly ignores the stupid way his brain processes all that is Arya Stark. 

She grips her diploma tightly, and grins when their eyes meet across the crowd. Or maybe it’s just the sun in her eyes. 

Either way, it all feels bittersweet.She’ll go to off to Bravos in the fall, and he’ll probably never see her again. Maybe they’ll Skype or text, but she will have a new life, new friends -and he’ll still be here working at Mott’s, and taking night classes at Oldtown U. 

It’s enough to make his heart lurch when she hugs him tightly after the ceremony, crushing the bouquet of wilted flowers he’s brought between them.

After, he hangs back with Robb and Jon at the house, picking at the ridiculous amount of fancy hors d'oeuvres that are being served.

There is a whirlwind of activity, and too many people he doesn’t know, andall he really wants to do is - _what? -_ _tell Arya Stark he’s sort of in love with her?_

He shoves a canapé in his mouth and the thought out of his mind.

Arya bounds down the stairs, and punches him arm lightly, “Hey.”

_Has she always been this pretty?_

“Not too late tonight,” Robb says trying to sound stern.

“Ok,Mom,” Arya replies rolling her eyes.

There is a beat up old car pulling into the circular driveway.He recognizes Meera Reed, but not the kid with the bleach blonde hair who hops out of the passenger side.The kid holds the door open with an exaggerated bow. An unpleasant feeling flares in Gendry’s chest. _Who the fuck is this prick_? he thinks sourly.

“Who’s that?” Jon asks for him.

“Ned Dayne,” Sansa sniggers. “He’s got it bad, but Arya’s completely oblivious.”

19

She knows it him before she flings the door open.She hasn’t seen him since last summer, and hasn’t talked to him in even longer. If she’s being truthful, she’s been nervous all morning. 

“You’re not dead.”

He looks startled for a moment.

“I’m not,” he says scratching his neck sheepishly, and handing her the pie he’s brought.

Pie isn’t going to erase the fact that he seems to have been avoiding her for the better part of a year, but this isn’t the time or place.

“Perfect timing by the way, dinners going to be tragic,” she saysignoring the way his lopsided grin makes her skin feel warm. 

He takes off his coat and her traitorous heart flutters, how is it possible that he’s even more attractive than the last time she saw him? He blinks at her uncertainly.Even that dopey look is annoyingly handsome on him.

“Robb’s girlfriend is pregnant,” she explains quickly, shutting the door behind him.

“Wow, that’s-”

“Mom is livid, but trying to be gracious about it. It’s hilarious.”

Robb carves the turkey,and they each say one thing they are grateful for.It’s a tradition her father started and there is a lump in her throat when she lamely says, “coffee.” Her mother frowns.

It’s always like this, even after all these years. She never knows what to say, and at times like this the wound caused by her fathers absence feels fresh all over again.

Gendry bumps her knee with his under the table then says, “Thanksgiving with the Stark’s.”

“A lovely sentiment,” her mother says, “there is always a plate for you at our table.”

_Kiss ass_ Rickon coughs into his hand.

Robb smacks the back of his head.

And then Talisa is saying something about Gendry takingthe words right out of her mouth, butArya doesn’t really register any of that.

Not when Gendry is looking at her like _that_ , his knee warm against hers - time slows down, is liquid and blue, and _-damn it._

Dinner is tense, but with her mother laser focused on Robb and Talisa, Arya is free to refill her wine glass as much as she wants without her mother raising an eyebrow. Gendry however does and bumps her knee with his. He’s such a killjoy. She bumps his knee back and fills both of their glasses with a smirk.

Going for a walk after dinner is tradition, but it’s started to snow and Sansa’s making some kind of complicated dessert. In the end, the only one willing to brave the cold with her is Gendry.

They pull on their coats in silence.Things feel awkward, complicated. She’d should say something, ask why he’d suddenly stopped talking to her. It’s left her wondering if It was all just in her head - their friendship. Maybe all she had ever been to him was Robb and Jon’s little sister.The thought stings.

At the beginning of last semester they had talked almost every night.She’d been taking a course in medieval history and teased him that in another life he probably would have been the lord of a holdfast.

_That would have made you my lady no?_ he’d asked huskily, teasing, but not, the butterflies in her stomach telling her that they were veering into territory that they often avoided.

_Who said I’d ever be anyone’s lady?_

Maybe it had been the wrong thing to say. After, he suddenly couldn’t find time to chat and his texts back had been short and non-committal. Months had passed, and when she’d come home for the summer, he’d made plans to go sailing with his uncles.

They only run into each other that one time when he was dropping Jon off.He’d asked her about school, and her friends, but it had been so cold and strange.

And now it’s just awkward. 

Nymeria bounds off ahead of them as soon as they hit the sidewalk. Gendry’s hands are in his pockets, his nose is red, and he’s smiling at her in that lopsided way that makes her heart flutter and her face feel hot.

She forces herself to not look at him, to not be affected by him and his stupid face. They walk in silence for what feels like an eternity. Snow and ice crunch under their feet.

“That could have been worse.” 

“I guess,” she says feeling sullen.

“You don’t like Talisa?” he asks carefully.

“What? No she’s fine. I’m sure they will live happily ever after.”

She can feel his stupid blue eyes on her but she concentrates on Nymeria, who’s furiously digging in a pile of snow.

“How’s school?”

“Ok,” she shrugs, “how’s Motts?”

“Quieter.”

Something about the way he says it makes her feel wretched. She has to know what’s changed. 

She stops short and his brow furrows.If she hadn’t been tipsy she might have a clever come back, call him stupid at least, but she is tipsy so -

“It doesn’t sound like you’ve missed me at all.”

He gets that pinched look, opens his mouth, thinks better of it.

“Of course I missed you stupid,” he finally mumbles. But he can’t look her in the eye. “I’ve just been-”

“Liar.”

“Arya, you have no-”

“You could have called. I called you a dozen times but you are always busy now. If you didn’t want to be friends anymore you could have just said something.”

The silence between them is excruciating. It is not at all how she imagined today would go.

“I don’t think that we-”

Now she’s the one that can’t look at him. “Oh.”The truth of his words strike that tender, self-conscious part of herself that remembers what it’s like to be Arya Horseface.

She’s looking past him, calculating how quickly she can sprint through the snow back to the house and up the stairs before anyone can see the hurt she knows is showing on her face.She’s been so stupid.

“No I mean - will you look atme please-”

She wills her face to go blank, she will not let him see her hurt. She can tell he is watching her carefully, but she keeps her gaze hard.

He lets out a breath.

“I didn’t - I don’t want to ruin things.”

She chokes out a wry laugh. 

He scowls at her. “We _are_ friends.”

“Ok,” she scoffs.

He sighs, annoyed, which makes her annoyed. She wants to kick him, hard.

“Look,” he says grasping her elbow, and turning her so she is facing him. His scowl has been replaced by a serious look, dark blue, and uncertain.

Her heart speeds up.

“But, I don’t think I can be just friends with you,” he says running a hand though his hair. 

It is very distracting.

“This isn’t the way I wanted to say it,” he laments miserably. “I’m probably gonna fuck this up, and I just-“

“Just spit it out Baratheon,”she interrupts, surprised by the breathy way it comes out. 

“I want more than that.”

It takes exactly 3 seconds for what he is saying to sink in.

She steps forward or he leans, down, she’s not sure about anything other than the soft pulse of his lips against hers. “Arya I-” he pulls back uncertainly.

She wants this.She wants him.His eyes drift to her lips, then back up to her eyes, and she reaches for the collar of his coat.

There is nothing soft about it this time.She pulls him closer, her hand slipping into his coat, resting over his heart.His fingers dig into her hips urging her towards him.


End file.
